


Blue Orchids

by BrokePerception



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokePerception/pseuds/BrokePerception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plagued by the memory of what used to be between the two of them, both Josephine and Mac come to terms with the fact that maybe what they had has been damaged forever. Is it at all possible to rediscover that rare, valuable relationship? Eventual JAC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** Ƹ̵̡ ** ** Ӝ ** ** ̵̨̄Ʒ•°¯`•• Blue Orchids ••´¯°•Ƹ̵̡ ** ** Ӝ ** ** ̵̨̄Ʒ **

* * *

**Summary:** Plagued by the memory of what used to be between the two of them, both Josephine and Mac come to terms with the fact that maybe what they had has been damaged forever. Is it at all possible to rediscover that rare, valuable relationship? Eventual JAC.

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BETA READ by _UrbanMuse_ (Kudos!)

* * *

**SEPTEMBER 2010**

Jo Danville had thought that it was a joke, at first: the entire floor abandoned, the not-so-very-inconspicuous and bloodied hand smudge… Somehow, however, her instinct had kicked in, more so than her curiosity, when she chose to investigate. After all, she wasn't supposed to arrive until early afternoon that day, and she had thought it too unlikely that they had adapted to her unexpected change of schedule that fast, that easily.

It had been that same instinct that caused her to notice Mac Taylor among the flood of others who drifted onto the thirty-fifth floor that first day at the New York Crime Lab. Of course, she had seen a couple of photos of him on file. However, she had felt there was more than recognition that made her speak, causing him to stop and turn to the sound of her accented voice.

There had been something about Mac Taylor that couldn't be captured by a still image, yet it was perceived easily by her in person, even from afar. There had been something resolute in how he stepped from the elevator onto the work floor and began –– or so she had then assumed –– walking to his own office. It somehow elicited respect, fitting with the few e-mails that had been exchanged between them in the weeks prior to her arrival. It was the way in which he turned his head, the look in his grey eyes that spoke volumes, of alertness and something deeper, much deeper, that she had always remembered from that first encounter, and possibly always would.

* * *

**SEPTEMBER 2010**

There had been something in her voice that had made him immediately turn. Of course, Mac had heard it a few times on the phone, and it didn't sound all too incomparable now. Yet, it did come as unexpected. He remembered being taken slightly off-guard by the sureness of it, the Southern twang that somehow seemed stronger when in the flesh. The way she stood, eyed him… It spoke of a tough woman.

Mac Taylor had always thought of her as mysterious: very loving yet unwavering, all at the same time. The way in which Jo stood on her feet, her looks and speech all spoke of her strength yet had a slightly hidden edge of vulnerability. It had caught him right away, when she first eyed him that first day. He doubted that someone with an 'untrained' eye would have seen the exact same… or anyone else really. It wasn't something he had ever shared with anyone or wondered about aloud, but from that first day, Jo Danville had struck him as someone whom you wouldn't like to mess with yet opened her heart for those she loved. His view on her had never really changed. Somehow, though, he seemed able to read more into her eyes than her voice now. He counted himself lucky to be allowed to see past Jo's subtle guardedness. Even if she had never been closed off, he could feel the difference –– there was something deeper now, a strange sort of mutual understanding and confidence.

* * *

**DECEMBER 2011**

As the adrenaline had begun to fade, when she was certain that John Curtis wouldn't move anymore, Mac's name had been the first she had considered. Maybe it wasn't odd given the circumstances –– he was her superior; he needed to know matters like that at once. However, it was still him she had _wanted_ to call when she regained her focus, the fog becoming clearer again, despite the pounding headache. It had been a tad shocking for her, realizing that.

They had hugged before, albeit fleetingly. She wasn't entirely sure whether she had expected him to then or not, but she remembered feeling like she needed rather than wanted him to do so. It would have been enough already to have him sit there beside her, feel him somewhere close. She hadn't asked for more than that, didn't believe she had given away what she knew now she had needed then. When she had felt him gently pulling, she remembered looking at him for a second before giving in and succumbing…

An incredible feeling of full safety had come over her when her head finally leaned on his shoulder, her body against his –– irrational, given John Curtis was gone and she was surrounded by police. Still, it had been him holding her like that truly had made her feel safe, his arm encircling her and his warm hand on her upper arm. She still remembered the lyrics of the song that had sounded from the ambulance radio: _Never let me go. Never let me go._ She thought she remembered mostly because that's how she had felt then, with him…

A chill had run through her when the lyrics hit her then. That and the realization she would have to let go sometime, if not soon. She had felt as if he knew, because in that exact moment, Mac's arm had slightly tightened, as if trying to let her know he wasn't going anywhere quite yet.

She wasn't sure for how long they must have been sitting there, but eventually, a medic had come over and said she wanted to run some more tests at the hospital before letting Jo go home –– after all, she had looked like Hell really. A look had been shared between them at that point, and he had kissed her hair, telling her he would go and ensure that the scene was handled and meet her at the hospital right after that.

He had been the one to drive her home once the doctors cleared her. She still remembered the look on his face when he left her at her doorway, saying he couldn't stay but would call later. Jo's name had left his lips when she had moved to close the door, thanking him once more just for being there. She had eyed him, but the rest of the sentence had been gone. He had merely smiled before ensuring he would call that night, then leaving. Even to this day, Jo Danville sometimes wondered what he had intended to say. To this day, she still remembered the undeniable emotion in his grey eyes when her name had fallen from his lips in that moment.

* * *

**NOVEMBER 2012**

Mac Taylor only opened his eyes when his heartbeat had already calmed down a little, the pounding sound in his ears having become less loud. The room was dark, but he hadn't really expected anything else –– it was usually dark when he woke, so this wasn't an exception at all. It was far earlier than he was used to, though. If it wasn't instinct, it definitely was a fleeting look upon his clock, sitting on the bedside table, that served as confirmation: 3:58AM.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It had been so real, somehow familiar… as if it had been a memory, not just a dream. Mac was rather sure it couldn't have been anything else, though, even if he couldn't shake the feeling that he had been there before, in that one moment.

He dropped his hand into his lap and drew a deep, shaky breath. In his too vivid dream, Claire had looked the same as when he had last seen her, that life-altering September 11th. She hadn't aged or changed otherwise. He had told her he had met someone, and she had said she knew and that she liked her –– a sort of confirmation for him from her that she wasn't coming back and that she wanted him to be happy, if not with her then someone else.

He pushed at the covers pooling at his waist and kicked them further off of him, pushing both fists into the mattress beside him and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Mac staggered to his feet, maneuvering to the adjoining bathroom by instinct in the pitch darkness.

Of course, he knew that had she been alive still, she would have done anything in her might to reach him, and she would have succeeded. A tiny piece of his soul always died when he remembered times with her more intensely than usual, though, and this dream or whatever had definitely been intense if nothing else. He thought he knew why: he had never accepted. He didn't really see why he ever would, given the unfairness of what had happened that unfortunate day. Claire had been a great wife, great in every role she had had in her life. By no means had she deserved to die so soon, let alone in that way. Then again, no one really had. He sighed once more, slowly leaning over the sink. Maybe a tiny part of himself believed that he didn't truly deserve it to have lost the love of his life that way either.

So he did what he always did when he felt like this: he turned to his infamous 'second love' as some said and succumbed into his job for now. People never stopped killing each other, and as such there was work to be done no matter when. The crimes needed solving; the families needed answers, and Detective Taylor, being the man that he was, would rather dedicate his time to doing something actually useful, something good, than return to the bed he knew wouldn't let him go back to sleep anyway –– it never did, after all.

He couldn't fully succumb, though. By the time the rest of the team members began to filter in, he had worked his way through the evidence and temporary evidence analysis of the case that had been called in the day prior, having made a mental note to himself to ensure the victim's brother was questioned again later that day. He, too, had pondered endlessly over how and why his dream had seemed that familiar, without coming to any answers. This one refused to let go of him, maybe in part because he didn't usually remember most dreams he had as vividly as this.

A new case came in before everyone had gotten there that morning at seven-twenty. This lead him to call Jo, who hadn't yet arrived. They exchanged good mornings before informing her they had a new case and he thought it best she just go straight to the scene rather than come in first. He gave her the address and stated that he would see her there soon. It had been a quite brief, _entirely_ professional conversation as usual. They never talked about anything personal on the phone, after all –– not that they had at all lately.

Jo Danville was at the scene before him, but she couldn't have been for long, because when Mac arrived, she was only pulling on her latex gloves. She looked over at him and smiled widely as she felt him near her. "Good morning," he greeted, partially returning her smile. "So what do we have?"

"Good morning," she returned, her smile disappearing as she relayed what Flack and the police officers at the scene must have told her: the still-warm body of a tattooed guy had been uncovered in a dumpster by a middle-aged homeless woman while looking for some food. She had had the scare of a lifetime, without doubt.

Mac's gaze wandered to the point Jo had indicated with a slight nod of her head. Flack was talking to a woman in tatters, who was shaking rather visibly from across the distance even. "Most beggars and homeless people don't call a find like this in. I'm not entirely sure whether I should be grateful or find it suspicious, if I'm honest here," he said. Unfortunately, most people like the woman were very shy if not afraid of police to begin with.

"Hm," Jo sounded, slightly squinting her eyes as she let her mind mull over the first-glance evidence. She watched him raise his eyebrow slightly, silently asking for her to elaborate on her obvious doubts. "The victim is a tall, heavy guy –– too heavy for one person, let alone a woman her size. Unless…"

"Unless she got help?" Mac suggested.

"Or…" Jo began, flashing him a slightly winning smile, before casting her gaze a little higher, "maybe he wasn't actually lifted but dropped."

Mac's gaze followed hers and noted two small balconies with rusty railings on the side of the building. He considered the possibilities. One was definitely too far to the left for it to have made for a successful dump. The other, however, might have served for the purposes Jo was considering. The half-broken balustrade definitely hinted at it. It might have just happened recently… His eyes connected with hers again.

"You reckon that could have broken in a struggle by a good push or so?" Flack wondered, pointing at the balustrade and looking down into the alleyway upon Danny and Lindsay, who were processing the scene downstairs while Jo was tackling the abandoned studio, most particularly the balcony. All they knew was that it belonged to a red haired woman in her twenties whose name the landlord hadn't even asked. He hadn't been all that helpful honestly –– the typical guy who didn't care who brought the money in as long as it did get in. The studio was lived in quite obviously, but there were few personal effects like photos or such to derive anything from.

"It definitely could have," Jo stated as she let her eyes slide over it, taking it all in very carefully. "The building's about ready to be torn down. The iron seems rusty enough. Plus, I believe I spotted some blood over there. So, yeah, I'll bet my money on it…" She finished with a smile.

Satisfied with the answer he got, he smiled back and nodded before turning his attention to Mac, who stood right beside him. "I'm just going to go and talk with the neighbors. Maybe they heard or saw something that can get us on track."

Mac nodded, at which the Detective disappeared. He turned back to Jo then, who was trying to take samples of the blood she had spotted earlier on the edge of the broken balustrade. It had been bent away a little bit, forcing her to stretch her arm to the fullest, holding onto the unbroken bit in order not to fall –– just in case. Still, she didn't quite seem able to reach far enough. "Jo…" he spoke softly in warning to convey his doubts on what she was doing. She had only said a moment ago herself that the balustrade was very rusty. He could only barely contain the urge to reach over and hold her for one reason or another. He wasn't quite sure why that was his first instinct, nor was he certain why he didn't do just that anyway. She could easily fall. She seemed to know this, too.

"Mac. Hold on to me for a minute, will ya?" she said, looking over her shoulder at him slightly before turning her attention back to the damn blood drop.

Mac didn't need to be told twice, giving in to his initial instinct and reaching over, putting his hands on her waist, holding onto her tightly –– maybe a little tighter than she had asked for. He watched her let go of the balustrade with her other hand as she felt him holding her so that she could reach just that little inch farther and _finally_ swipe the q-tip across the blood smudge. However, what he had feared might occur, actually happened in the next moment.

A little too happy maybe with finally having reached the blood smudge, Jo leaned back just a little too vigorously, putting too much of her weight on the balustrade so that Mac could let go of her again. As a result, it nearly immediately gave way under her left hand and broke further, causing Jo to lose her balance… only to be steadied and pulled back at the last second by Mac, whose hands had only loosened their grip but not yet left her waist. One second might have been all that had been needed for her to topple down from the balcony to her death or at least to serious injury.

She never screamed, mainly because she hadn't had time to do so. Jo's heart and breath had definitely stopped for a second between the railing breaking and Mac tightening his hold again to pull her away from the edge of the balcony. Jo's fear of heights definitely hadn't helped much, even if she saw the same look of fear and possibly surprise reflected in Mac's eyes when she fell back against the man, instinctively meeting his gaze, feeling her heart pounding, her entire body shaking.

Mac's heart only began beating pseudo-normally when she fell against him, a confirmation for him of sorts that she hadn't crashed down and that he had been just in time. He remembered having felt that way when he first saw her after she had had to shoot John Curtis, when he had held Jo to him as they took his body away. At the same time, it was quite incomparable, though. He had almost seen her crash down that balcony beside him… "That better be of relevance…" he muttered, the only words spoken between them in the silence following what had nearly happened.

Just like the look in her eyes after she had shot John Curtis had filled Mac's mind for days to come after it had happened, the near-accident settled now in Mac Taylor's mind, making him forget all about his dream. He was certain that this close call would haunt him for at least the rest of the week.

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–– **Please review... I would like to hear your thoughts!**


	2. Chapter 2

_"I know, and I like her."_

_Mac frowned, his eyes never leaving her. Claire's smile made him doubt whether she even knew what had occurred with Christine after all, if they were actually talking about the same person. Silence stretched on between them, in which the only sound was that of the sea's waves repeatedly crashing against the breakwaters somewhere further in the distance –– further than he could see. That, and a soft sizzling sound closer by, where the sea water rolled onto the deserted beach and lapped at the shore, mere feet from where Claire and he both stood bare footed, despite the coldness of the wet sand. The waves formed momentary spume before retracting again, only to repeat the process. His forehead creased only further when her smile widened and a soft laugh left her lips –– oh, had he missed that sound. "Claire…"_

_"I don't mean Christine, baby. I know you liked her and she you and that she tried very hard, but…"_

_So they were or they weren't talking about the same woman then? "Christine couldn't live like I do, and I couldn't live her life either," Mac said, head shaking as if he was silently chastising himself for ever having believed anything else. "I'm no good with relationships; no woman ever stays. I guess you were my one, beautiful exception."_

_Claire's gaze slid over him. The pain audible in his words was most visible in Mac's grey eyes, but she definitely recognized it in the locking of her husband's jaw and other tiny details just as well. Claire felt her heart ache over being unable to be there with him any longer, but it was high time for her beloved to move on now and be happy –– it was high time for her to give him that final push and open his eyes to see what was right before him. "You would be surprised," she spoke, her voice becoming even more tender. "I like seeing you together, how she gets your defenses down so easily without you realizing or minding it. After everything, she still comes and wishes you good night before leaving every single day, and part of you can't leave before you have said good night either. Somewhere deep down, you know what it means… and what she means to you. If only you admitted it to yourself."_

* * *

He seemed so focused. Since he had mentioned something about paperwork, and since she knew from her own experience how long one could sit on that, she had gone to his office with a large mug of steaming coffee, intending to give him a small 'boost' of sorts before going home. The look upon his face and the fact he didn't even notice her made Jo stop before swinging into his office, though. He seemed intensely occupied with something, if only in his mind. The crease between her colleague's graying eyebrows said enough. She recognized that look, and she thought it best not to intrude on him. However, just before Jo turned on her heel to leave him with his thoughts, the smile she had sported each day when she came to wish him good night fading, Mac Taylor caught sight of her through his office's glass panels and made a small motion with his head to invite her in.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, her smile becoming sincere, as she pushed at the door to his office and stepped in, letting it fall shut as she neared his desk. "You seemed quite occupied. I didn't wish to disturb you," she said, her clutching at the mug making her realize she was still holding it and why. "Oh. I thought that you could use some caffeine now, given how much paperwork you've got to plough through," she said and extended the mug to him.

A small smile passed across Mac's features upon reaching over and accepting the steaming coffee mug –– black, how he liked it the best. His smile was a little forced, though, Jo immediately noticed. She didn't even remember anymore when he had last smiled at her sincerely. Weeks? Months? It might come close to one year, she realized. "That's all right," he said, however. "You never disturb me."

_Don't I?_ A pained emotion flashed through her eyes at that. That same word choice undoubtedly would have elicited a smile still no more than one year prior, before everything had changed. No more than a reminder it was now, a most painful one, of how it had used to be between them and how she wished them to be once more. If only. They were a far cry from that. She cocked her head slightly, eyeing him, as he looked away and took a sip from the coffee she had brought, wondering if he felt the same. Did Mac feel that something between them had changed, too? Did he, like her, wish they were like they used to be before getting shot? For Jo, it was especially hard when they had a moment in which Mac's care and tenderness resurfaced. A moment like when she had nearly tumbled from the balcony at the scene and he had 'saved' her and held her after –– moments that were maybe supposed to be beacons of light in their currently cloudy friendship, that were supposed to give her hope… but, hope for what exactly?

If Jo thought the last few months away, she would sit down right opposite him and ask what was bothering him. If the last few months hadn't been bothering her so, she would have done so. However, flashbacks to Mac's usually kind tone sounding so cold and harsh with her, telling her to basically get lost, and his grey eyes turning icy on her resulted in her intestines clenching together each time. Reminded her of all that had changed, of her concern no longer being warranted when spoken aloud to him. She felt caught between fires over it; she felt like screaming from frustration at his damn stubbornness –– if only she hadn't cared as much about the man.

Jo didn't particularly feel like making everything worse, though. She wasn't really angling to leave feeling worse than she did at that stage already –– not tonight. She had felt truly sick last time he had told her not to get involved further in his personal life, mainly because it hinted at her not being a part of that. She had felt strangely numb otherwise, as if his words had slammed all air and all feeling she ever possessed from her body, merely leaving the nausea behind. "I'll ah…"

He regarded her carefully. He wondered what she was thinking, what had just caused the crease between Jo's eyebrows to become deeper and what maybe had caused the brief flicker of emotion he had seen in her eyes. It had been there for only a second or even less, before she had undoubtedly quelled it. Mac had surely seen something, though, and he couldn't, he wouldn't just let it go now. If not for that alone, then definitely because of the sudden urge to just flee Jo seemed to exhibit after having been so lost in thought a mere moment before. He wondered whether he should have said something instead, maybe asked her what she was thinking about before she caught herself doing it. "Jo…?"

She slightly shook her head in a way that said it meant nothing and she just wanted him to forget all about it already. She would have expected Mac to be happy to do exactly that (especially lately), but she seemed to be mistaken. He surprised her tonight and didn't drop it. Mac Taylor made another, small motion with his head that was not unlike the one he had used earlier to invite her into his office. This time, however, Mac was clearly inviting her to sit down on the desk chair right opposite him. Jo remembered herself sitting there every so often when they had cases that hit close to home and she just needed to spill it, finding comfort with him. While his embraces always induced a feeling of safety, Mac had an innate ability to comfort and reassure by his mere presence, his great talent to always know the right words in the right moment.

"Jo," he repeated.

"I am aware my concern isn't warranted," she whispered, finally casting her gaze down. Jo's response contained more meaning than answering Mac's unfinished question alone would have; her tone said enough as to how she felt about her concern having been unappreciated lately, the accompanying distance between them.

The frown between the superior's eyebrows became deeper for a moment as he cocked his head and eyed her. He couldn't read the emotion in her eyes, even if he swore he could see regret and helplessness in a way, combined with some concern and then something else he could see but not name. There was something knowing, too. Of course, her psychological education and general perceptiveness must have noticed his distraught attitude for longer than today. What she had said and the way in which she had said it, had only confirmed that something between the two of them had broken at some point, ever since he had come back to work after his long rehabilitation. He hated for her to be thinking that way; it made him feel quite horrible… but he couldn't blame her for doing so either. He knew that he couldn't have been great company while trying to deal with unexpected aphasia and just being back at the lab in general. He knew that she had only wanted to support him, that a lot of his replies had been harsh and unlike him –– unlike what she deserved as well. At that point it hadn't been in his power to act otherwise, though. He could act otherwise now, but all the damage had been done already…

A part of him wanted to tell her about the dream, finally having remembered that morning that he had had the same one when he had been in limbo between life and death –– unordered images of everyone in the team flashing by, his mind somehow lingering longer on Jo than others. He wanted to tell her that he had seen Claire and how confused she had left him, but he had no idea how. He wasn't even sure whether he really wanted to speak of it with the exception of that very small part deep inside. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't even have considered it. He felt so foolish for letting a figment of his imagination upset him so much; after all, Claire was no more than a dream and memory now. He sighed. The happy future she had hinted at for him seemed nothing more than a faraway dream, too.

Jo could see him ponder over what to say and knew she wouldn't get anything from him. When he was weighing his words like that, Mac chose to tell her nothing in the end most of the time. As she saw him chew on the inside of his right cheek in thought, a strange thought crossed her mind. She wondered whether he had been this closed with her predecessor Stella Bonasera, too. When she had been organizing everything for her transfer to the New York Crime Lab, many had voiced their surprise over Stella having left there, given that she and Mac Taylor appeared to be incredibly close. She shook her head to dismiss any obligation he was or wasn't feeling over having to respond. "That's all right, Mac," she whispered, even if her tone sounded anything but 'all right'. She stood and gave him a smile, even if it was a tiny one at that. "Good night, Mac."

[ _After everything, she still comes and wishes you good night before leaving every single day, and part of you can't leave before you have said good night either._ ]

Ever since that first day, Jo had always come to wish him good night… always accompanied by the smile he had grown to love so much, which oftentimes elicited a small smile from him in return. Realizing that, it finally hit him fully just how much he had missed her sincere smiles, her teasing, how much he treasured her in his life in all. Mac Taylor had learned the hard way yet again you only realized how much something truly meant to you when it was gone or at least slipping away. He wouldn't let her slip away entirely, though. He refused to have that happen, and he knew the ball was in his court and that it was time to act now if so. "Jo." He watched as she halted and turned on her heel to face him once again, eyebrows raised in question slightly. "We haven't indulged in a burger and a beer in a while, and I could use something before I continue on with this paperwork…"

* * *

Mac slightly shook his head, and a corner of his mouth twitched as she took a rather big bite from her cheeseburger after having taken a swig of beer. God knew how she remained so slim with those eating habits, but she just did it. God knew how she could still be so very ladylike even when eating juicy, greasy burgers.

"What?"

"Nothing," Mac replied and took a far more measured bite of his own burger, putting it down on his plate once more. He reached for his napkin in order to wipe off the ketchup that had spilled onto his thumb. The only reason he could give for her being able to eat fast-food without spilling sauce everywhere –– unlike him –– was practice. He watched her smirking at him and the messiness he was creating. He raised his brow at her look, quietly wondering whether she really expected him to ever learn.

Silence ruled between them as they finished eating, wiping the grease off of their mouths and hands. When the burgers were gone and they had no reason anymore not to talk, the silence really began to grow awkward. Jo knew he hadn't asked her for a burger and a beer without reason, though –– her senses had piqued when Mac had asked. It might have happened in the past that they had lunch or dinner together just 'for fun', but they hadn't done it in so long now, that this time could hardly be considered casual. She sipped from her beer, fingers clutching the bottle, eyes trailing to him, trying to read his face. She sighed deeply before finally asking, "Mac, why did you ask me here?" She needed to know.

"Does there have to be a reason?" he asked.

"I guess not," she said, but it didn't sound convincing at all.

Mac noticed this as well. If she felt half what he did over the whole situation, he knew she deserved to know why –– she deserved answers even if he didn't know how to form them right now. Claire's dreamy words nagged at him still, the earlier realization that had caused him to ask her for dinner to begin with. Her eyes and the loss of the usual joy contained within eventually pulled him over the edge. "I know I haven't been the easiest or the kindest to you lately," he said. "I know I haven't given you any indication at all that I value having you in my life in any way, especially lately. I only hope you know that I do value you a very great deal, though."

Jo's countenance remained unchanged, as if saying it wasn't enough. Mac opened his mouth to ask about it when she interrupted him, "You don't have to…"

"No, I don't," he agreed. "I'd like to, though. Will you let me?"

Hazel eyes roved over Mac's face, a rarely so open look visible on it now. The wanting to know hadn't truly disappeared, maybe mainly because it had always been far more about concern than curiosity. Still it felt strange that he was willing to tell her what had been bothering him for so long now. At least, if she understood him correctly. Jo had wanted him to tell her for so long, and she wondered what had finally changed for him to return to it all now. After his clear warning not to get further involved than she already had in his personal life, she had not said a word of it ever again, and nor had he, and she had expected for him to use the opportunity to let the subject fall flat between them without furthermore. Apparently not. "Mac…" She didn't know what to say, but he took her silence as a confirmative answer.

"After I got shot, I suffered from speech aphasia," he admitted. Mac's voice sounded unusually strong, as if he was forcing himself not to keep all to himself any longer but to say it loud and clear at last so he, at least, didn't have to repeat it if he was going to say it at all. "I would forget common words, like color names. I didn't deal well with it, and it left me…" Mac's breath seethed; he was looking for the right word."Frustrated," he concluded, "and angry a lot of the time. Training's been helpful, though, and I've overcome the aphasia for the most part now, even if it sometimes still happens that some word escapes me. I reckon you already had an idea what was going on?"

Jo slowly nodded in confirmation. She definitely had caught him forgetting simple words on a few occasions, initially attributing all that to exhaustion, considering other options before the alarm bells had rung loudly. "I suspected," she whispered. "I, however, didn't know of any reason why you didn't tell me or anyone, even Christine. Did you want to go and prove yourself by doing it alone? Did you believe anyone would see you as a lesser person if you had just said anything about what you were going through?"

Mac sighed deeply. "I know I have been especially harsh on you, and I'm hoping you see where I'm coming from and maybe… forgive me for having been the way that I was," he said, dismissing her rhetorical questions –– or he interpreted them as such at least. Truth be told, he didn't have answers. "I know you said that it was all right, but it hasn't been the same between us since. You're a great companion and colleague, and I would hate to ever lose you as either." He became quiet for a moment and then slowly reached for her hand with his, covering and squeezing it. He watched her gently turn her hand so she could better hold onto his in return. She squeezed him back. It was a form of reassurance for him then.

"I've missed you, too," she whispered, giving him a small smile as she spoke. "I am glad you've told me, at last. It means a great deal to me."

It meant a great deal to him, too, to be able to tell her this and to not be judged even if he doubted she really understood. He realized when his grey eyes fell upon their gently entwined hands: she meant a great deal to him.

* * *

–– **Please review... I would like to hear your thoughts!**


	3. Chapter 3

**RATING: T**

* * *

"We should do this more often, ordering food," Adam announced, taking another wide slice of pizza, lifting it onto a plate and pulling it to him while using his other hand to reach for the bottle of coke that stood right in the middle of the table to refill his glass again, too. The atmosphere was relaxed and calm at last –– it hadn't been since that morning, so it definitely was liberating now. There had been a shooting at a drugstore downtown, which had filled their whole working day: collecting evidence, analyzing evidence… There had been a lot of evidence indeed. Four customers hadn't survived their injuries, more still fighting for their lives at the hospital as well.

Despite their tough case, both Sheldon and Sid had managed to leave nearly on time, whereas the others were still at the lab, awaiting results…

Mac swallowed, slightly quirking his eyebrow at Adam's comment. "Well, this is just a one-time exception, so don't expect to get used to it."

"If those damn devices worked faster, we would get results much faster as well and wouldn't have to stay here for dinner to begin with… just waiting for a match or not," Lindsay said, contently patting her full tummy, holding her hand over her mouth quickly to hold back a burp. She had been the one mentioning food to begin with, even if others' stomachs had been rumbling audibly just as well. Jo had eventually been the one to finally convince Mac to let them order into the lab (he wouldn't normally let anyone eat in the labs), arguing you couldn't work with hunger anyway. Ordering in would allow them to stay at the lab in case the computers came with results.

"Totally agree," Jo said. She had very little patience for uncooperative electronics.

Lindsay swirled in her desk chair to look at her computer screen through the tall, glass walls of the Audio-Visual lab, where they had gathered to eat –– it had the most space and a relatively large light table, plus there wasn't any risk of directly ruining evidence like there was in the DNA labs. From there, you could see the computer screens and were always close by when the computers came with results –– something the break room would definitely not allow, nor the meeting room where they usually gathered to run things with the entire team. She stretched her neck for a second and then sighed deeply, already betraying her next words. "Still nothing. I swear––" she began, when she suddenly stopped. "Hey, Adam, turn up the sound!"

A frown passed over Adam's features as he turned to the sound system and did as requested, watching the smile on Lindsay's face widen as the lyrics and the music became clearer. They all watched as Lindsay eyed her husband suddenly; his smile had brightened as well. He reached for the closest napkin, wiping his greasy hands on it, then stood, extending his left hand for her to take. She did just that, and a giggle escaped her lips as Danny pulled her to her feet and lead her to the hallway. While Adam only frowned after them, as if he wasn't following it, Jo and Mac sat smiling. Sheldon was with Camille tonight, and Sid had taken an early day as well.

Mac's smile was definitely widest –– he knew that this was their song, and he liked seeing them still so in love, even if it made him a little sad, too. Jo's smile was brittle as well, you could see if you looked well enough. Adam noticed it, even if he wasn't known for being perceptive. He noticed the similarity between the looks upon Mac's and Jo's faces, if not necessarily the emotion causing them for either. However, somehow, he knew that it wasn't happiness, even if Mac was with Christine and Jo undoubtedly caught enough attention everywhere from men and women alike. Of course, Adam didn't have any idea that Mac and Christine weren't a couple any longer; neither did he have the faintest idea at all about Jo and Cade ever nearly having happened. So, in fact, Adam's observation was quite insightful. Lindsay and Danny were just far too occupied to even notice anything…

When the song changed, Lindsay and Danny continuing to dance with each other, Mac's gaze trailed to his colleague, immediately noticing the glossiness that seemed to have covered Jo's hazel eyes. He frowned slightly at it, because he could swear that he seemed to recognize a vague longing as well. Mac made a decision in the next two seconds and stood, extending his warm hand to her and whispering her name questioningly when she didn't move.

Her name coming from his lips caught Jo Danville's attention. She looked at him, eyes sliding down to his proffered hand. A warm smile brightened her eyes if only for a moment before she slid off her chair and immediately rose to her feet, only then laying her hand in his and letting him drag her to the hallway where they had _slightly_ more room. The offer was an undoubtedly rare one from Mac Taylor. Had Danny not asked Lindsay to dance a little earlier, Mac most certainly wouldn't have done it either. Jo valued it, maybe because she knew as well how uncommon it must be. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been asked to dance genuinely without the asker's greedy eyes roving over her, undressing her where she stood in their minds.

They both smiled a little nervously at each other as they closed the space between them and began to move to the beat of the music; it was strange, especially given Jo was mostly open and natural otherwise. The seconds of torturous nervousness and hesitation cleared after just a few seconds, though, and the dancing couple moved nearly seamlessly together very soon, as if they weren't dancing together for the very first time but had been doing so for so many years. Strangely enough, they had never danced before despite the fact that there had been parties and other functions with music. Jo had dared to dance with Sid once. He had been a surprisingly good dancer actually, and Mac appeared to be as well. She still remembered the look on Lindsay's face when Adam finally released her after having asked her to dance with him once, having squashed her toes nearly from the beginning to the end.

Anyone who didn't know and was looking at them at that point, would have said they were romantically involved, if only in how they moved together, even if they were only barely touching. There was, however, something about them there, each going along with the other's lead as if choreographed.

It was the way in which they seemed so enraptured with one another in subtle ways: how Jo smiled widely when he twirled her about her axe, how he smirked as well when she fell back into his safe embrace. No words were spoken between them. No words were needed. The air between them, the looks exchanged between Jo and Mac and how they behaved in general… it said it all for them, in a language all its own.

It definitely caught the attention of Danny and Lindsay, the other dancing couple, both their gazes and Adam's upon them in both shock and acceptance. They might have seen it coming at one point, but not right now, not after Jo and Mac seemed to have had quite a set-back in their 'relationship' and Mac had been steadily getting closer to Christine… Adam, sitting alone in the AV lab with his large slice of pizza, saw so many similarities between the couple and the non-couple. They held one another quite similarly, eyed each other very similarly indeed.

When the song died away, the radio host's voice coming in-between to announce the local news and the weather before continuing, they were pulled from their hazes. Lindsay's gaze fell upon the screen of her computer through the tall, glass walls of the offices as they did. She sighed and said, "No hit. I'm not surprised."

Lindsay and Danny remained remotely entwined with one another when the song ended. However, Mac immediately pulled away from Jo again at Lindsay's voice, totally dissolving the moment between the two of them, putting distance between them before slightly turning his head to see the 'no-match' on the computer screen as well. He sighed deeply and turned to Lindsay once more. "We'll continue on it tomorrow with fresh eyes. You don't have to stay here any longer for me tonight."

They cleaned the leftovers of the ordered food together in a content silence, after which Lindsay, Danny and Adam went straight home as if they had all remembered they had to be somewhere suddenly –– somewhere where Jo and Mac weren't invited. "You thought that was strange as well or what?" Jo asked, voicing their shared thoughts about how sudden and quickly their co-workers had left. "Just when I was having fun here. We should definitely do that again, ordering food –– but then hopefully the rest can stay longer than tonight."

Mac just shook his head in a way that said he had no idea what to be thinking about it, causing a sincere smile to appear on her lips. Without knowing, they had gotten to Jo's office, which she shared still with Lindsay. The difference between the two desks was immense. The right one was… fairly immaculate with everything in seeming order. The left one belonging to Jo was an utter mess, even if Jo herself claimed there was a very certain order in everything. If so, she must be the only person alive who could see any order in the piles of papers and the myriad of post-its not only between her many papers but those framing her computer screen and those attached to any free square inch of desk as well. They were used to it, though. Everyone else had long accepted the messiness being apparently integral to Jo Danville and had stopped pondering over where she saw an order in the huge mess.

Had Mac been accompanying Jo or she accompanying him? They couldn't quite say. As they reached her desk, having entered the shared office, they were both surprised, though, as if they had just been going without thought of destination and hadn't expected any to come forth so soon. Jo turned to him then, both detectives just silently eying one another for a short moment in the fading daylight shimmering in from the half-closed blinds. "You know, you're a fairly great dancer," Mac commented, making Jo smirk slightly.

"Well, yes," she said in the teasing tone he recognized very well. He had missed it, too, he knew in his faraway unconsciousness –– his consciousness hadn't quite accepted it yet, though. "I may have only done the books in the weekends at the burlesque club when I was still an undergrad, but I did see the women dance… and I might have learned something from them as well. I would never go on a stage, though. I'm too self-conscious about how I look, and have always been. I do reckon I must have been more attractive then, though." A low chuckle from herself immediately followed, only to be interrupted by her own breath hitching suddenly in her throat at the look in Mac Taylor's grey eyes at that moment. Her eyes fluttered as she felt the back of his fingers tenderly slide down her cheek, halting at her jaw line, cupping it. A tingle ran down Jo's spine as Mac murmured lowly, "I can't honestly imagine you being any more attractive than you are now…"

At this, Jo's hazel eyes opened suddenly in something like disbelief, her gut and heart telling her to just lean in and give in to her heart's desires and close the distance between them and kiss him. However, she needed to be sure. What if she was misinterpreting it; what if her mind and heart were merely trying to mislead her? Plus, what about Christine? She whispered her name, causing him to shake his head and slide his left forefinger back and forth across her jaw line as he told her, "No. We haven't actually been together for some time now."

Jo seemed genuinely shocked hearing this. Mac hadn't spoken of his relationship with Christine lately in any way, but she had thought that it was a 'natural' consequence of their dissolving friendship. Sure, she had been a little uncertain first, not sure whether they could be a good fit. Especially when Christine had not seemed to notice anything wrong with Mac while she definitely had. Nonetheless, Jo had been happy for him… or at least tried to be so, and supportive. "I thought you…" she began.

"Shh. It doesn't matter now," Mac whispered.

Jo could feel her heart hammering hard in her chest. If the thought of Christine had stopped her seconds before, then Mac's confirmation that she wasn't a part of his life in that way for any longer only propelled her to do what she desired to do. She laid her warm hand upon his upper arm and eyed him.

The glow Mac's eyes seemed to take on and the way the fading daylight reflected in them, made Jo shiver with what was undoubtedly want. The slight hesitation there only originated from the intense fear she felt that she might be mistaken, misinterpreting everything. Then she felt his free hand upon her hip, the other beckoning her closer… and she fell into the abyss willingly. She gave in to it all, brushing her lips against his first tenderly, only to repeat it more firmly, pushing back as she felt him pushing back in return, lips dancing upon and against each other in imitation of how their bodies had earlier while dancing: flowing as if they had never done anything else… maybe as if they weren't meant to do anything else either.

There were kisses of tenderness, gentle and not eliciting the slightest need for more. There were kisses of need eliciting great desire, which nearly necessarily lead to more: hasty removal of clothing, kisses trailing from lips to skin while hands began to roam further as well. They were definitely getting there if they didn't stop soon… Their first kiss might have been of tenderness, but the ones following were not –– at least not exclusively. They were not intended to soothe and to satisfy with the mere touch of lips, nor really _intended_ to light a fire within and between their bodies either… but they did.

Neither of them was aware that they were walking backwards, until Jo felt herself suddenly pressed against the edge of her messy desk. A gasp immediately escaped her, putting an end to their kiss, even if their lips remained within a hair's breadth of each other, breaths mingling, their gazes looking deep into each other's smoldering eyes. What were they doing suddenly? They saw the question only reflected in grey and now darkened hazel. At the same time, they saw the answer –– they didn't really care, and stopping was no option now.

They both realized that more was the only option, that they weren't sated and wouldn't be until they… Suddenly, their lips brushed each other's again, rediscovering the urgency that had gotten lost when she had felt herself suddenly pressed against the desk. Jo's one hand tightened on his upper arm, the other sliding in Mac's hair and tightening slightly as she thrust her tongue further when he opened his mouth, as if he had anticipated that exact moment when she had needed to go even further, maybe fueled by the fire racing through his own body.

His hands tightened on her hips, only pressing her more into the desk, causing Jo to pull away from their kiss. She panted, moving to carelessly push piles of paper away in any direction they were currently willing to go, making it possible for Mac to lift and deposit her on the top of it. Her legs immediately fell to the side, which allowed him to slide into the cradle between her thighs, recapturing her lips once more, taking the chance she offered him to discover her mouth much like she had done with his. They had not needed words, as if they could read each other's minds, their mimicking actions causing them to be in the compromising situation they were in now.

The desk's height was quite perfect, allowing Jo to feel his arousal press directly against her centre. It was quite uncanny, but neither of them minded. They both became aware of it within seconds of each other, Mac gently undulating his hips once, twice, before letting his hands trail from her hips over her sides. Mac's lips released hers at last, moving onto the sensitive spot below her right ear just as Jo arched back her neck to give him better access. She moaned in approval when he ran the tip of his tongue across it, leaving wet, slightly sucking kisses along the side of her throat. "Oh, Mac…" Her voice had a low and sultry tone, almost purring. Jo's mind was swimming at the feel and the thought of this normally composed man having pushed her against her desk at the lab, in a less than private space, kissing her with such great desire that it couldn't ever possibly be faked. The realization that they were in a near public space, combined with her own need and desire to feel him against her without the layer of clothes keeping them from direct contact, made her, however, draw on her last shred of sense and sanity before it slipped away and all rational thought escaped her. She might not even be able to speak anymore in the next minute or second if he continued as he was.

She fought for breath to speak –– which was incredibly hard to come by due to the overwhelming delight Mac elicited in her from his hands sliding over her sides, alternating in pace and pressure. "You really better take me home now, Mac Taylor," she managed with a voice sounding way more level than she felt, "… or we'll be doing it right on this desk and I'll never look at it the same again."

For a long moment, Jo wasn't entirely sure whether he had heard her, for his right hand climbed her ribcage and settled under her bosom, his lips not stopping their assault on the length of her right collarbone either –– not that she would really mind being taken right then and there herself, but where they were… He finally pulled his lips away and then leaned his forehead against her shoulder in imitation of her, panting audibly. A low, weak moan escaped Jo's lips as she felt his hand slide down her ribcage once again and settle on her hipbone. "You're right," he managed, voice breathless. He stepped back and extended his hands for her to take, gently helping Jo off of the desk. When she got to her feet before him again, a yellow colored paper caught his sight, and he reached over to her left buttock, plucking it off of her jeans, then holding it into the air when Jo opened her mouth to ask what he was doing there. When she saw the post-it, Mac's comments about those immediately entering his mind, she couldn't help herself. Mac smiled slightly, but Jo's giggle resounded first.


	4. Chapter 4

****

**RATING: M  
**

* * *

As the music began filling Jo's common room, she felt Mac's hands touching her sides, pulling her closer against him as she straightened again, giggling slightly at the need he exhibited –– a need for her. She felt both nervous and excited. After all, it had been a long time since anyone had openly wanted her so much… and the buzzing lightheadedness she felt as a consequence wasn't entirely displeasing. The memory was nothing, compared to the hot near-intoxicating feeling itself.

She gasped, feeling his hands slide under her blouse, Mac's thumbs brushing her lower spine in circular motions. She bit down on her lower lip in early anticipation –– she had missed this sort of tenderness so badly. She felt the tension and the need still within him and his actions, within herself. His hands moved higher over Jo's trembling skin, his touch leaving gooseflesh in its wake, as he pushed strands of hair aside with his nose and slowly dropped his lips to the back of her neck, kissing it. "Mac…" Jo whispered breathlessly. She reached back with a hand to clutch at his hip, trying to pull him closer to her again and making her intention very clear. After all, as she pulled him closer, she felt Mac's arousal pressing back against her hard.

When he didn't seem to react much to it, she turned in his embrace and leaned in to capture his lips with her own fleetingly before pulling back and casting a mischievous glance at him. Mac merely grinned. If he wanted to tease, she knew that game as well… Mischief danced in her eyes as she began to move to the rhythm of the music, slightly urging him to move to it along with her much like before, even if the embrace they were in now was definitely much more intimate than earlier. She lowered her head on his broad shoulder, inhaling the musky scent of him and enjoying what it did to her brain. It made it fuzzy, reminded her of how very much she liked the smell of a man. Of course, they all had a unique scent underneath the cologne and aftershave and whatever, but she thought they all had a something spicy she couldn't quite put into words. Was it even spicy? At least it was stronger than a woman's odor in a great many ways.

Jo Danville liked masculine men with tender hearts. She was a feminine woman, after all, who liked to be spoiled on occasion. At the same time, however, she was quite tough. It just wouldn't do being with someone who wasn't at least relatively steadfast. Ever since reaching the age when she had begun showing a slight interest in the opposite sex, Jo Danville had fallen for the same sort of guys no matter what. She smiled as she remembered her first fling –– she had been younger than Ellie, years younger.

Time ticked by effortlessly, as they stood swaying together. She felt impossibly safe, impossibly content, feeling his arms encircling her and his warm breath upon the side of her neck, not really paying much attention to the music or the lyrics but rather him and how he felt holding her. That was, until she suddenly pulled back and looked at him with a wide smile as the intro of the song she remembered from her youth burst through her living room.

**§ And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down… §**

As Mac recognized the gleam in her eyes, he shook his head smiling. This was more than quiet mischief –– it contained her innocent, airy mirth he liked seeing so much. "That is an old song. Isn't it from…?" he wondered.

"Dirty Dancing," Jo finished for him, urging him to loosen and move more lively to this song than they had to the others. Then again, the up-beat tempo called for it. "I was in college when it came in theatres. I love it; unfortunately I have watched it so often now that I'm in need of a new copy on DVD... Come on, Mac!"

**§ Watch me now, oh… (work, work) §**

Mac's smile widened as he watched her mouth move along to the lyrics. Then, quite spontaneously, she began to dance to the music in the most erotic and sensual way he had ever seen someone move, apparently intending to use the whole space of her living room and attached little kitchen. The gleam in her eyes was reflected in his as he wondered just how much she had seen and learned at that burlesque club when she had been an undergrad and whether it had been combined with a strip club maybe. Mac couldn't really help his mind from wondering about whether her flexibility extended in other areas as well and whether he might ever have the chance to discover that first hand. Upon realizing which road his mind had taken, he couldn't quite feel guilty about it in any way, though. Whose interest wouldn't have been perked having a beautiful woman like her dance like that right in his line of sight, her being fully aware that he was watching her every move.

It convinced him to become somewhat bolder in his moves as well, and he grasped her hips, trying to move awkwardly along with her as best he could –– he was better at dancing to slower songs than this, he realized then, if he hadn't realized in earlier years. She seemed to at least enjoy his efforts to move with her, though, because her award-winning smile was back in place and she seemed to undulate her hips just a little more forcefully then so that he could feel it well. She leaned in to kiss him once more, her body necessarily moving closer into his, allowing him to feel her right against him, her lips upon his, her tongue against his… This woman was driving him absolutely insane, he felt.

He distinctly remembered kissing not really being a part of that scene in Dirty Dancing, even if he wasn't disapproving. Of course, he had seen the film as well, but that had been ages ago, and he only remembered the main gist and a couple scenes. Maybe they could watch together sometime, he thought, before he remembered one scene in particular. A boyish grin spread across his lips.

Boldly, he grasped Jo's thigh and lifted her leg, making her gasp in surprise and loosen her grip on him momentarily, which he used to 'dip' her, after the scene he remembered. Jo shrieked as he did this, though, and so he lifted her somewhere halfway again, suddenly afraid his boldness could have caused her to hurt herself somehow. When he opened his mouth to ask whether she was all right, she fell against his shoulder and began to shake with laughter seconds before the rich, beautiful sound left her. Even if muffled by his shirt, her laughter still overruled the voice of the radio commentator again repeating the name and the artist of the song they had heard and announcing the next.

He took a step back and lifted her chin with his right forefinger, so she could look at him, her laughter dying away but both cheeks still rather flushed and her hazel eyes slightly teary from it. She looked so beautiful to him in that moment, and he thought she deserved to know. "You are… so beautiful," he whispered, the last two words merely murmured against her lips before he captured them.

Jo moaned into Mac's mouth as she felt herself pressed back against her kitchen counter, not unlike how he had pressed her against her desk at the lab God knew how much earlier now. She briefly caught herself wondering how they had ended up there in the kitchen, but all thought was pushed aside at the mere touch of his full hand upon her bosom –– she had barely even felt it skim across her ribcage earlier. She wasn't sure if she liked his hands or his mouth best yet, but maybe she would get more thinking material soon if the night progressed like it was at that point. They were definitely headed in the direction of some hot, steamy sex…

She moaned as she felt him palm the heavy weight of her breast and then gently massage it. She pulled away from his kiss to look in his eyes as she slowly raised her arms, speaking to him with the look of pure lust contained in her eyes and her actions. He slid his warm hand down and took a hold of the hem of her blouse, beginning to drag it higher, not even considering undoing the buttons on it first. As he did so, revealing tanned, perfectly soft and flawless skin to his gaze, Mac couldn't help but ache to kiss it. As soon as her blue blouse fluttered onto the floor beside them –– Mac didn't believe she would mind given she was the messiest person he had ever met, even if her studio did not show any resemblance to her office but instead looked very nice and neat –– he pressed forward and lifted her off her feet, depositing her on the edge of the kitchen counter, not unlike he had done earlier. Only, the kitchen counter was a fair tad higher than her desk, not offering them the same perfect levels in height as her desk at the lab had. Still, with the exception of the difference in height, they seemed to be back at the lab, their needs running wild and their desire for each other running much like fire through their bodies. Jo's sly smile betrayed her as she voiced in a sultry tone, "Remind me where we were?"

As they resumed kissing, their hands blindly reached for one another's clothing. Jo was a tad more successful at un-tucking Mac's shirt from his pants and quite effortlessly undoing the belt and the top button of them than he was at unclipping and further unzipping Jo's dark jeans –– her current sitting position wasn't very helpful at all. She seemed to find it highly amusing, though, as she began quietly unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up. In fact, however, she was gently ripping and hoping the buttons wouldn't pop off. He finally pulled back, looking at her exasperatedly as he allowed her to push his shirt past his shoulders and she immediately reached down for the hem of his wife-beater, pulling it over his head, leaving him bare-chested before her. He raised his brow at her as if asking her if she was happy now that he was half-naked. Her response came in a seductive smile and a biting down on her bottom lip. _Oh, dear heavens._

Wanting to get back at her and wanting to see more of her as well, Mac slid his hands to the backs of her knees and gently pulled her to the edge of the kitchen counter, taking her by surprise and causing Jo to lose all balance. Helplessly trying to reach for something to hold and use to steady herself –– a perfectly natural reaction –– she knocked her light blue orchid right off of the left side of the counter, hearing the clash as the ceramic pot connected with the floor. "Oops," she whispered as she leaned on one hand and looked down over the edge of the counter at the mess they had made, just as Mac did the exact same. Their gazes connected then. "I'll buy you a new one," Mac said seriously, seeming thoroughly set-back by the realization his actions had caused her to flail her arm that far for purchase and had resulted in that break.

She shook her head slowly, as if telling him that it wasn't of importance or at least not now, and leant up higher to peck his lips in an effort to distract him from what had just happened and to ensure he would continue. She wasn't sure what she would do if he should actually stop now. No single brain cell was considering stopping, though…

Moving one hand to Jo's lower back to support her weight a tad, resting his other on Jo's thigh, his lips began on the swell of her cleavage, leaving small, gently sucking kisses along the line of the material without seeming to want to move it aside or take it away entirely. The feel of his hot breath so close to her pebbling nipples made shivers run down Jo's spine. She opened her mouth to tell him to take it off already when he surpassed her cleavage, kissing down the midline of her body. Her arms quivered with the effort to keep herself half-raised, and when Mac's hold on her lower back slacked and he moved his hand to her shoulder and gently pushed, making his intentions clear enough, Jo lay back within seconds, subjecting herself to his skilled lips and hands.

The hand that had urged her to lie down now gently cupped the side of her bosom, Mac's middle finger easily slipping into the lacy material and poking just far enough for the tip of his finger to touch the hardening, quite sensitive flesh of her puckered left nipple. A warm shudder ran through her, which he felt by the contraction of Jo's muscles underneath his mouth when he neared her naval. He felt her body arch into him as his other hand palmed her cleavage, too. His right thumb reached slightly forward, rolling upward just across her very sensitive nipple, moving back and forth slowly as her reaction convinced him right away that he had been successful at locating it even on the first try –– then again, her nipples had already grown so stiff that it would have been strange if he hadn't.

Dipping his tongue into her naval, his hands released her breasts to a moan of disapproval from her, sliding across her overheated skin, finally unclasping her pants. This position was a little better to achieve that. Plus, Jo was slightly more cooperative now, lifting her ass slightly in the air the moment she felt the material loosen a tad at her hips, allowing him to tug on it and slide them down. A bit of wiggling from her side caused them to slide down the rest of the way, dropping at Mac's feet. She thanked the heavens that it had only been two days ago since she had last shaven. Shethanked the heavens that she owned mostly decent underwear and hadn't yet reached the age where she would sacrifice looks for comfort –– not that Jo ever bought very uncomfortable underwear.

She hadn't quite expected Mac to do what he did next, even if the signs were quite obvious in hindsight. Her eyes shot open, feeling Mac's warm breath through the material of her olive green panties, self-conscious suddenly about her smell and taste down there. Her hand gripped the edge of the counter as she rose slightly, uneasily whispering, "Mac, you don't have to…"

When he ran his tongue across her folds through the material of her panties, Jo's head, which she had raised a tad, dropped against the counter slowly. When he repeated the same action, she couldn't stop her eyes from shutting once more either. Her self-consciousness and the delight she felt coiling inside were battling for dominance now, keeping her from feeling very much of either one.

He covered her hand with his as it still gripped tightly onto the edge of the counter. He slipped a forefinger under the olive green material of her panties and tugged it aside to reveal dark, moist curls. He couldn't stop himself, leaning in once more, pressing the flat of his tongue against her slit and going back and forth a few times, effortlessly sliding between her drenched nether lips upon adding pressure and causing her to arch in what Mac hoped was delight. As the tip of his tongue touched fleetingly upon the bundle of nerves where Jo's inner folds came together, he decided to change tactics. He hadn't had a lot of women or anything, nor gone down on a lot either. He knew enough to be aware that addressing that sensitive little bud would make Jo feel great. So that's what he did.

Mac stroked her clitoris gently, causing Jo to gasp quite audibly. He locked his lips upon it and began to suck it into his mouth, making Jo moan loudly, causing her pelvis to buck with him, arching repeatedly. "Mac…" At that, he moved his mouth further in rhythm with her quaking hips as he continued sucking. He seemed to interpret her actions right, for she jerked quite furiously. "Mac!" He felt more than saw how her thighs quivered when her body sank down to the kitchen counter again, becoming otherwise still entirely as she recovered from her powerful orgasm.

He released her panties, thoughtfully straightening them when the wet fabric only slid back halfway, his hand upon the cool counter –– cool in contradiction with how hot she and he, too, felt in that moment. He straightened more and looked upon her, her chest rising and falling faster than it would have normally as she regained her awareness after the rush of great delight he had given her. Sensing him looming over her, she opened her eyes and regarded him with a smile. She was so beautiful.

She opened her mouth to praise his ability to make her feel amazing when she saw his face turn into a grimace and his right hand jerk away from where it had lain a second prior. She cast her gaze aside, seeing the possible cause. "Those cooking plates are touch pad. We better move to the bedroom, before more mishaps happen," she said, casting a brief look upon her broken orchid, too.

* * *

**§ 'DO YOU LOVE ME' by THE CONTOURS (from DIRTY DANCING (I))**


	5. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

A feeling of dread invaded Jo Danville as she jerked her hazel eyes open, slightly raising her head, eyelids fluttering against the momentary haziness of her morning vision. Focusing upon her alarm clock, a wave of relief overtook her. She had feared that it was much later, given how fully rested she had felt when she had slowly come to from a dream which she couldn't recall anymore at that point –– not usual for her. However, she seemed to still have forty minutes more until her alarm would beckon her to wake and go ready herself for work.

"So you are awake," a soft, sexy voice murmured close suddenly.

She slowly lowered her head onto Mac's torso again, slightly tightening the arm she seemed to have wrapped somehow across his middle in her sleep. She didn't really recall, but she quietly suspected it might have been close to the same time when she had slid her leg over Mac's, now dangling between his thighs. "Mhmm," she murmured, lazily. "How long have you been awake?"

"A while…"

"What is 'a while', and why didn't you… wake me?" Jo said, hopelessly trying to suppress a yawn, slightly shifting her head so she could look at him, appearing disappointed.

"You looked way too beautiful."

"Original," she replied, whimsically rolling her eyes. She rose slightly higher on his broad torso. "After what you did to me when we got here last night, you could have expected I might need to make love to you this morning again, finding you in my bed, all hard and ready…" At that, she lifted her knee a tad, gently yet suggestively brushing it against his balls. He groaned; she smirked with satisfaction in response.

Obviously, they were slightly late for work. Adam and Lindsay's foreheads had curiously crinkled upon their arrival at the crime scene, ten minutes late and together. They had the perfect excuse, though: Jo's car battery had given in the night before and Mac had offered to come get her when she had mentioned taking a taxi after her trouble –– she had looked at Mac quite meaningfully –– getting home the night before… or so Jo had claimed in an airy tone. Finding her little lie rather believable –– Mac being a gentleman and all –– they had accepted what Jo told them, not dwelling more on it. Mac's face had looked more than nervous, though.

Another murder had come in not long after they arrived, and since Mac's attendance was required there, he and Jo were separated after less than twenty minutes, leaving Jo to ride back with Adam after the scene had been processed. They hadn't even seen one another until about four-twenty PM. Although, of course, there had been the occasional phone call to keep Mac up-to-date about the findings of their first case all throughout the day. Those calls had never been anything but strictly professional, though –– maybe even a tad too much so from Mac's side, as if he were trying even a bit too hard. It would settle soon, she expected. If not, well… Everything was still new. If she were absolutely honest, she felt some nerves of some sort as well. It had gone fast, and what had happened, and was still happening, would surely require some talking about –– but later. She knew it was better to let some matters develop on their own instead of, or at least prior to intervening in any way.

The one and only non-professional moment, was when Jo had visited Mac in his office right before she intended to go home for the night, asking whether she would see him later maybe. Her eyes and the gleam in them had given away that she really wished she would. In response, Mac had said that he really wanted to get through some files first, but that he would come by later if that was all right with her.

So it happened that Mac stood on her doorstep at eight-forty that night, surely taking Jo by surprise, with his arms full. In his one arm, he had tucked a flower pot in which sat a tall lavender colored orchid. In his other hand, Mac carried a bottle of Spanish red wine and a DVD she seemed to recognize at once as Dirty Dancing. She had no words for how touched she felt at his thoughtfulness –– nothing Russ ever would have done.

"I haven't really managed to find you another blue one yet, I'm afraid. I thought I would beg for forgiveness now with this one already," Mac said and stepped over the threshold when she moved aside to let him do so. "It seems blue orchids are very rare and therefore particularly loved. I thought this sort of fit anyway; the woman at the flower store said this color represents admiration."

Jo's smile grew wider as she accepted the flower pot he extended to her and eyed it carefully. "Aren't you sweet? I kind of like this one, although I must say I like its buyer even more."

Mac Taylor smiled slightly. Jo Danville was a very rare type of woman indeed, he thought, maybe like a blue orchid. What they had between them was all the more rare, and maybe that's why he loved her. Nothing or no one would, however, ever be treasured by him as she was, not even fields full of blue orchids.

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**Author's Note:** With this, you, reader, have reached the end of the fanfic. Please review.


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